


no simple words

by dreamofspring



Category: IDOLiSH7 (Video Game)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Character Study, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Family Issues, Found Family, M/M, Missing Scene, Other, Spoilers up to and including part 4, Tenn's backstory, found home
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-13 08:16:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20579348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreamofspring/pseuds/dreamofspring
Summary: Ever since Kujo Tenn's debut took the entertainment world by storm, people could have been curious about the perfectly polished idol who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Where does he come from? What does he hope to achieve? Just who really hides behind that angelic face? Charmed by his smile, no one would expect that for Tenn himself, things as simple as home or family were the hardest to define, and his true feelings the hardest to describe. Can he find the words?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Warning for psychological abuse by Kujo and effects thereof. Tenn's interactions with other characters will be positive.
> 
> Some of the tagged relationships will only appear in later chapters, ie. GakuTenn will not be the main focus but will start showing up from chapter 3 onwards. Fic will include spoilers up to part 4 in later chapters (4-5).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Tenten (9/9) day! I've been planning this fic for the longest time and I really wanted to release it today as I wasn't able to post any writing on his birthday. Happy (severely) belated Birthday, my sweet angel.
> 
> Note: There's a slight difference to how the anime depicts Tenn's departure and how I described it here, but as I believe the anime scene was meant to be a condensed and more symbolic version of the events (the process must have been more lengthy and complicated), I still consider the fic canon compliant.

The state of the art elevator operates smoothly and soundlessly, only the floor numbers flashing by as it ascends. They have long passed the top floor of the house Tenn lived in until today, but still continue to rise. Tenn looks away from the display, his head spinning. The reflection he catches in one of the mirrors lining the wall is somber and sickly pale; he can barely recognize it as his own. In front of Riku, he could smile no matter how bad the situation was, but now, when he tries to lift the corners of his mouth, his expression only becomes strained, his eyebrows scrunching together. The tingling sensation of being watched makes Tenn break out in a cold sweat. Kujo’s figure looms in his field of vision. The suited man stands just an arm’s reach away, one hand resting nonchalantly on his hip. Unlike Tenn, shivering in a thin, off-brand shirt, gripping the strap of his worn out backpack like a lifeline, Kujou-san fits right in the luxurious interior. He doesn’t say a word, but the stillness creates a sense of pressure threatening to squash Tenn flat. He can’t tell what Kujo’s silence means; is the judgement positive, or negative? Afraid to meet Kujo’s eyes in the mirror and see disapproval, but unable to hide from his scrutinizing gaze without making it obvious, Tenn can only stare ahead and try to get his expression under control. If he’s not charming enough - if he doesn’t meet Kujo-san’s expectations, he could end up back on the doorstep of the Nanase household, the money for Riku’s treatment vanishing like smoke. Maybe his parents would hug him, saying they can find another way - but Tenn overheard enough hushed, desperate conversations in the dead of night to know that Nanase’s debt was much more serious than they let on in front of their sons, a quicksand trap that would only pull them deeper as Riku’s condition worsened. Maybe Riku would smile and forgive him - but that is exactly why he can’t allow it to happen. Because Riku would use all of his dwindling strength to hug the twin who doomed him out of selfishness, and he would smile, happily, in _ relief, _ even as he was dying, as long as Tenn was by his side. Tenn presses his lips into a thin line, steadying his jaw. There _ is _ no other way.

“We are here.”

Tenn looks up briefly, taking in the floor and apartment number. There is no nameplate.

“You will have your spare key for emergencies, but I would prefer you don’t wander outside too much. We wouldn’t want the press to catch the sight of you, yet.”

Tenn closes his fingers around a small piece of metal his mother pressed into his palm just before he left, when Kujo-san wasn’t watching. A little rusted from falling into a puddle, with a keychain he pulled out of a gachapin capsule together with Riku - his old house key. Riku had a matching charm, though his keys were shiny and nearly unused. Slowly, Tenn lets the key fall into his pocket.

“Understood, Kujo-san.”

The lights are out when Kujo opens the door. Kujo doesn’t say ‘I’m home’, even out of habit; Tenn’s ‘Sorry for intruding’ dies on his lips with the stomach-flipping realization that he isn’t a guest - he’s going to live here. Tenn glances at Kujo from the corner of his eye, waiting for the switch to flip and reveal Kujo’s private face. but neither the man’s expression, nor the set of his shoulders changes coming home, the air about him as distant as ever. Even as they step inside and remove their shoes, Kujou-san doesn’t take off his suit jacket. Tenn realizes he’s never seen Kujou without it; it’s as if the suit was a part of his body, a second skin. 

The interior doesn’t reveal much about the man’s personality, either. Designer furniture of a kind Tenn has only seen in magazines fills huge, open space decorated in neutral beige and white, the only splash of color coming from a plant near the stairs and a red coffee maker. Spotless surfaces, free of clutter natural to the life of a family with two children, create an image straight out an ad. On the kitchen island, Tenn spots a standing callendar - a commercial sample, advertising a company Tenn doesn’t recognize. Though almost every square is filled with notes, the month displayed is wrong, as if no one had been around recently to turn the page. The apartment doesn’t feel lived in.

“You may use the living space on the first floor at your leisure. I only ask you don’t raise the blinds. The paparazzi may be watching from the nearby buildings.”

Tenn’s eyes dart to the metal blinds, similar to the ones Tenn’s parents’ club would pull down against robbery after closing. Even though they’re this high up, and it’s the middle of the day, they’re tightly shut.

Kujou catches his gaze. “Worry not. The air conditioning is well maintained. I would never have you breathing stuffy air”

“...I understand, Kujo-san. Thank you.”

Kujo goes on about the security in the building, but Tenn can’t focus on the words. His attention is stolen by a peculiar sight. Next to the staircase, a small tree grows within a glass cylinder reaching from floor to ceiling, illuminated from all sides and perfectly isolated. Though from afar, it looks real, it’s hard to imagine how it could survive without water and sunlight. Tenn reaches towards the glass without thinking, but his hand soon drops to his side. A chilling sense of hopelessness creeps up on him. He can’t help but feel like he’s looking at himself.

  


The first floor is so spacious Tenn nearly forgets there is a second. Kujo-san walks with confidence that he will be followed, and despite himself, Tenn finds himself trailing behind, slowly scaling the wooden stairs. Just like the entrance and the elevator, the entire floor is shrouded in eerie, unnatural silence. Neither the wind that was blowing before they came in, nor ambient noise from the busy streets below, nor any, even the faintest conversations from the outside reach the apartment. Even Kujou-san’s voice is muffled, seeming to come from far away. He opens another door - more beige and wood, a flash of white tiles - the bathroom. It’s at least as big as the room Tenn used to share with Riku. Tenn could almost see Riku running in, with wide, sparkling eyes.

_ “Look, Tenn-nii! It’s like a pool! You could stretch your legs and splash around! We’d both fit inside - “ _

Tenn shakes his head, dispelling the illusion. Riku isn’t here.

“I took the liberty of choosing some beauty products based on the effects and recommendations,” Kujo-san says, “But if you have any preferred scent or brand, just say a word.”

Kujo’s tone is smooth and kind, as if Tenn could really ask for anything he wants - and yet, something about it still makes him tense up and try to inch away. Tenn is overcome with guilt. What right does he have to demonize the man? Kujo-san only gave him an option.

It was Tenn who packed his backpack, working with mechanical efficiency that scared even himself; it was him who convinced his parents to let him go, that he’d be okay. It was him who didn’t take it back, even when he realized Riku was listening at the door. It was Tenn, who didn’t turn around when Riku cried and coughed, his voice not coming out right anymore - 

“Tenn? Are you not feeling well? Your room is right next door. You ought to rest. You’ve had a tiring day.”

A part of him wants to stomp his feet and scream, “Whose fault is that?”, but another, weak and needy, can’t help but cling to the kindness in that voice, no matter who it comes from. He can feel his guard crumbling.

The first thing Tenn notices is that his room isn’t as dark as downstairs was; the neon lights of the city below seep through a crack somewhere, dissipating the darkness into a dim gray. Turning on the light reveals that the windows are covered by black curtains rather than blinds; the curtains are black and thick, but at least, not as unforgiving as metal. Tenn takes in the row of bookshelves lining the wall, several shelves full of CD and DVD cases at the other, a sound system, an armchair. Gray and black rule the space, with only the colorful spines of books livening it up somehow. There is nothing to suggest that the room is intended for a middle schooler. It could easily belong to an adult. The bed is adult sized, as well, so wide that Riku could comfortably sleep next to him. Tenn’s vision blurs; he blinks in confusion, belatedly realizing it’s tears. He squeezes his eyes shut, trying to will them away while he still has his back turned to Kujo-san, but his memory works against him. It supplies the sensation of Riku’s warmth as he curled into his side, asking for a story; the way Riku’s breath tickled his face as they talked in whispers about everything and nothing in the middle of the night, hidden under the covers, their noses nearly touching; the softness of Riku’s hand in his as Riku slept, feeling for the reassuring thump of heartbeat in his wrist. All at once, he recalls the way Riku cheered when, after studying movies, Tenn build their first pillow fort; the sparkle in Riku’s eyes as Tenn sung for him, standing on top of the bed like on a stage, or, dressed in sheets, acted out scenes from Riku’s favorite books. Tenn’s fingernails dig into his palms. _ Not now. For Riku’s sake, not now! _

Kujo clears his throat.

“I would like to get a head start on the procedures for your adoption, but you don’t have to accompany me. Unless you’d like to…?”

Kujo gives him a look that makes him feel like he’s being tested.

Tenn shakes his head stiffly. “I’d… I will leave it to you, Kujo-san. If that’s okay.”

“Very well.” It seems the test has been passed. “Get used to this place for now. You will stay here until your transfer is complete.”

“A… transfer?” Tenn repeats.. 

“You will be transferring to a school overseas. Rest assured, the quality of education is top notch. Same for the security and discretion on campus. ”

The faces of few classmates who still bothered to keep in touch and bring him printouts when both Tenn and Riku missed school flash through Tenn’s mind. Their homeroom teacher, asking after Riku’s health and suggesting books he would like - their classroom, decorated for the school festival - the framed photos from competitions in Tenn’s club’s room - _ “It’s not the same when we’re without you, Nanase” _-

He would never see them again.

“Thank you, Kujo-san,” Tenn can barely recognize his own voice. “Can I… sleep now?”

“Good night, Tenn.”

The door closes with a click.

Tenn collapses onto the bed, burying his face in a pillow, but to his frustration, tears refuse come again. His chest heaves painfully, his breath coming in short, shaky wheezes, but no matter how he tries to will tears on, no matter how much his eyes burn, they remain dry. Though the lamp isn’t too bright, it soon begins to bother him.He drags himself across the room to turn off the light, but in the darkness, he finds himself listening for Riku’s breathing, wanting to get up and check on him, as if Riku was sleeping in the other room. He ends up rifling through the CD shelf, looking for anything to fill the silence. It’s only when one of Zero’s rare ballads starts to flow from the speakers, Tenn falls into shallow, restless sleep. He dreams of wandering through an unfamiliar hospital with endless, winding corridors, knowing that Riku needs him but unable to reach his room in time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fic will be divided into chapters based on timeskips. Next time: Tenn during his studies overseas.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry for the delay in posting. I was feeling under the weather, and writing some parts of this chapter didn't go smoothly.  
Same warning for Kujo's influence on Tenn as before, except stronger for his bigger role in this part. I don't endorse, support or justify anything he's saying here in any shape of form, I simply tried to portray him accurately.

A few weeks after his transfer, Kujo messages Tenn during class.

It could only be him - one of the first things they’ve done after arrival was sign a new phone contract, and Tenn hasn’t given out his new number to anyone else. It was at the man’s express instructions, velvety voice lecturing him about pre-debut scandals and distant acquaintances playing up your relationship for favors or to get their moment in the spotlight. The new phone sits strange in his hand and pocket, bigger and flatter than the one Tenn left behind in the drawer in his and Riku’s old room. He hasn’t written down any of the old contacts, only taking out the memory card before hiding it under a pile of clothes Riku no longer wore. His right to call any of these numbers would soon disappear, along with the name Nanase vanishing from his family registry. He couldn’t afford to see Mom, Dad or Riku on the “calling” screen again, either. He might’ve not been able to cut the call. One of those days, he could’ve picked up.

Now, outside of the infrequent, but regular conversations with Kujo-san, the new phone has become a glorified music player. The pattern to Kujo’s calls let Tenn prepare, make sure his voice wasn’t off and he could answer any question, but with this text, the pattern is broken.

The buzz of the alert at his thigh breaks Tenn’s focus, making him lose track of the lecture. Tenn’s pulse speeds up. His thoughts race; why now? The instructor in his morning dance lesson was giving him a strange look - what if he called Kujo-san to complain after Tenn left? Were Tenn’s academic results not up to par? Or was he expected to contact Kujo himself? Time and again, he would stare at the man’s number, but even though Kujo has been nothing but courteous, asking after Tenn’s health and his treatment at school - even though at times, Tenn missed talking to someone, anyone, enough that even Kujo would do - somehow, Tenn always hesitated. 

Tenn glances at the wall clock. Still half an hour until the end of the lecture. Will Kujo- san wait until then? Will the next messages come, or will he fall silent, feeling ignored? He briefly considers checking his phone under the table, but even if he doesn’t get caught, it’s too risky to read the text where so many people could see his face. He can’t trust himself to keep his expression neutral. Kujo’s instructions ring in his ears; _ Stay under the radar, don’t attract attention. _

Each element of Tenn’s appearance and behavior at school is carefully planned for the sake of his surprise debut; all to make the biggest impact, enter the industry with a past so clean it’s as if he didn’t exist before stepping onto the stage. Bangs just a bit overgrown to hide his features, but neat enough that he doesn’t stick out for being unkempt; plain clothes, neither too cheap nor too expensive; a placid, inoffensive smile. _Participate in class, but don’t raise your hand too often to not attract animosity from classmates. Avoid being associated with prominent social circles or subcultures. Don’t have pictures of yourself posted on social media._ _Don’t let anyone worry about you._

When Tenn looks down at his notebook, there’s a gap he has no idea what to fill with, and then an illegible scribble across the page. The lecture has moved on to a point that does not seem to connect to the earlier notes. The English seems more advanced than before. He struggles to keep up, zoning out over the meaning of individual sentences no matter how much he tells himself to just write down what he hears without thinking. The hands of the clock appear to not move at all.

Once the class is finally dismissed, Tenn mixes himself in among people leaving the classroom in small groups. Conversations continue around him, eyes sliding over him, as if he wasn’t there. Tenn easily tunes out their conversations, the English turning into meaningless background noise. 

He slips into an empty corridor. The new message count on his phone is still at one, though it’s too early to judge if it should be a cause of relief or concern. Tenn steadies himself with a deep breath.

The contents are succinct, informing Tenn he will be going back to Japan in two days. Kujo has secured tickets to the final showing of an acclaimed play, as well as a reservation for dinner at a luxurious restaurant later. The event falls on Saturday. Tenn will be flying out early Saturday morning, to avoid an absence from school.

The phone nearly falls out of Tenn’s hand. Japan? Why? In the first few days here he dreamed of nothing else, but now, the very thought of going back fills him with fear. 

Admitst foreign scenery, surrounded by unfamiliar faces and language that still sounds strange to his ears, it was easier to look in the mirror and see Kujo Tenn, rather than Nanase Tenn - but the image is still so flimsy he could lose sight of it at any moment. It’s too early to come within an arm’s reach of his old life. Judging from the tone of the message, though, everything has already been decided. There’s nothing Tenn can do.

Tenn makes it back home in a haze of exhaustion and anxiety, trying to make sense of the articles about the movie on his phone, but even after getting past the unnecessarily difficult Japanese in the reviews, he can’t figure out a connection between the play and idol work, nor why is it so important he has to go back to Japan to see it. Could it really be just for entertainment? Maybe a… reward, for doing well, even? Could he really believe that? Deep in thought, he nearly misses his stop.

Tenn wasn’t allowed to live at the school dorms, not even in a single room, as Kujo-san didn’t want him using shared spaces; the private face of Kujo Tenn has to remain secret. He stays in a rented studio apartment in the city, outfitted with its own bathroom and kitchenette. The decor is sparse, barely anything but what the apartment came with. There’s just one detail: an electronic frame on the table, displaying images from a memory card on loop. As he steps inside and takes off his shoes, it shows a picture of Tenn and Riku on their eleventh birthday party.

“I’m home, Riku,” Tenn calls out quietly. His fingers brush the edge of the frame. He lets his bag slide off his shoulder and curls up on the couch, pulling the laptop discarded on the pillows towards himself. A sticky on the lid reminds him of singing lessons in the evening; still a few hours to go. 

Not without some effort, Tenn finds a new episode of a variety show he used to watch in Japan. He’s getting the hang of using foreign sites, as messy and ridden with viruses as they are; suddenly locked out of about every Japanese network and radio site, it’s the best he could do. He makes a mental note to ask Kujo about other options. If anyone would know of a way, it would be him.

The newbie idols who debuted on the show last week are guesting again; neither of them managed to get a word in before, so it’s only now that Tenn realizes they must be a duo. At first glance, they don’t stand out any more than the last time - the taller one actively tries to blend into the background, thoroughly miserable. Something about his partner, however, is different. 

The shorter idol is laughing at the host’s joke, but his gaze is sharp and focused. His eyes are scanning the entire studio; it seems he’s not just following the conversation, but keeping track of the reactions and speaking order of all the guests. Gauging the timing? Finally, he seizes the chance to speak; the atmosphere in the studio has become tense from straying onto a controversial topic, but his remark lightens the mood and gets the conversation back on track. He doesn’t get ahead of himself, staying cautious underneath his wide smile, but there’s determination and a spark of contagious energy in him that keeps Tenn’s eyes pinned to the screen. Somehow, Tenn finds himself sitting up straighter, his fatigue melting away. When the idol cracks a joke and winks at the camera, an odd noise startles Tenn - it’s his own laughter. By the time an alarm on his phone reminds him of his singing classes, Tenn is three pages into a thread on indie idols, with multiple tabs open and few downloads in progress. Just for a while, the thought of the play disappears from his mind - but he can’t push it away forever.

* * *

Halfway through the first act of the play, Tenn forgets that Kujo-san is sitting next to him. He’s gripping the armrests of his first-row seat so tightly his knuckles turn white. By the time the curtain falls, his eyes are still wide open, unblinking, his heart held in a steel grip. 

The image of the heroine is burned into his mind; an unassuming girl keeping her head up regardless of what the universe threw at her, all for a simple, but hopeless dream of love, her dignity gaining respect of even those stronger than her, feels as real as himself. The ending, bittersweet, but triumphant, where she stands tall, a hero in her own right, not for what and who she was chasing, makes the first tears in a long, long while flow down his cheeks. Kujo simply watches, without a word.

“Tenn,” Kujo begins as they wait for their food to be delivered, “What did you think of the lead of the play?”

“The female actress?” Tenn glances at the man’s face, trying to figure out what kind of response he’s expecting, but Kujo’s expression and tone only reveal polite interest. “Her acting was impressive...” Tenn says cautiously; the lack of negative reaction encourages him. “I thought it was wonderful. The audience could feel the characters emotions, but it’s not all… It’s as if she was standing there. Not the actress, but the girl from the story.”

Kujo smiles slightly, nodding in approval.“Indeed. Now, tell me: what did you think of the actresses behavior at the closing ceremony?”

“What do I think…?” Tenn tries to recall if there was anything unusual, but nothing comes up. “She was smiling, right? The play finished without trouble, she got flowers and a lot of applause, so she must have been happy… Isn’t that nor-”

“You should know,” Kujo cuts in, “That she was recently married. The relationship was kept out of the spotlight, and didn’t interfere with the actress’ work. On the contrary, she seemed to receive a boost in motivation. The husband, however… Passed away suddenly, a few days ago. As the cause of death is being determined, the burial has not yet taken place.”

Tenn’s jaw drops open, his eyes widening in disbelief. 

“You seem surprised. But you enjoyed the play, didn’t you? It lifted your spirits, I could tell. Now, how would you feel if that uplifting atmosphere and message was broken at the last second? How would the audience encouraged by the story feel, seeing the face of the character who gave them strength, still in the same make-up, gloomy and smeared with tears?”

Kujo’s words, cold and ruthless, push Tenn against a wall.

“I would feel strange,” he admits quietly, slowly, his eyes still wide with shock. “Worried. I wouldn’t know what’s going on.”

Kujo nods solemnly. “That’s right, Tenn. That’d be a perfectly normal reaction. After all, you, and everyone else in the theater, weren’t simply treated for free. The audience pays the price of a ticket, but in fact, they give the entertainers more than that. Do you know what, Tenn?”

Tenn can only stare, his mind blank. Kujo sighs softly.

“It’s their precious time - their valuable attention, which could easily be directed somewhere else. It’s trust that the entertainer can offer them something no other could. It’s a blessing, Tenn - to have people look at you, admire you. To have them entrust your feelings to you. Those feelings aren’t just of a single kind, either. Among the audience, there were lovers of literature, excited to finally see an adaptation of their favorite work; there were those hoping to be entertained and forget about the stress of their daily life. Finally, fans of the cast came to support their favorite actor. There could even be others, with different reasons on their own. And that’s just the audience. There’s also…”

“The director,” Tenn offers, “The author of the original work. All the different staff, and… The owner of the venue.”

The faces of his parents flash briefly through Tenn’s mind. A waitress brings over appetizers and drinks, but Tenn barely notices the plate set in front of him - Kujo-san doesn’t touch his, either.

“You’d know.” Kujo seems to be reading his thoughts. “This theater wasn’t built in a day, and neither did the skill and experience of everyone involved come cheap. The outcome of the play would affect their jobs and prospects. The culmination of past efforts, affecting the future... Once the lights are on, the responsibility for all of it comes together to rest on the cast’s shoulders - especially on the shoulders of the lead. It’s the same for anyone who stands on stage, such as…”

“...Idols.”

You’re a kind boy, Tenn, that’s why you were concerned and confused,” Kujo’s voice is smooth, hypnotizing; Tenn can’t break away from his piercing gaze, can’t even move. “But it’s not that this woman is heartless. She was simply taking more than just herself. She acted like a true professional, and a truly responsible entertainer. After what your parents have done to you and your brother, I thought you’d understand,” Kujo sighs again, disappointment apparent in his face. 

“Done? To us?” Tenn repeats, incredulous. “They lost their shop!” he sputters, forgetting that he’s not supposed to upset Kujo. He doesn’t realize he’s standing up. “They were in a hopeless situation! There was nothing they could do…”

“Was there really?” Kujo questions calmly. “Sit down, Tenn. Have you ever wondered why the shop went down? Hasn’t it been the source of your parents’ income for as long as you can remember? If a business that has been doing so well for such a long time wouldn’t collapse for no reason. Something has changed,” Kujo puts his fingers together, leaning slightly forward. “Hasn’t it?”

“When Riku fell very ill…”

The soft murmur of conversations and clinking of cutlery fade into the background. He remembers the growing sense of unease at home, mom and dad deflecting his questions with smiles that didn’t reach their eyes. Whispers late at night… Long conversations with doctors, out of both Tenn’s and Riku’s earshot, while Riku anxiously held onto Tenn’s hand, his grip getting weaker by the day… Was it the same at the shop?

“I took the liberty of visiting, a few times. It was truly a sad sight. The glum atmosphere, ever dwindling amount of customers. Dancers devoid of energy, performing sloppily, with sullen smiles, only going through the motions - “ 

Suddenly, he sends Tenn a piercing, meaningful glare, as if saying, _ just like you. _ The dance teacher must have told on him - it couldn’t have been the singing instructor, she liked him, she was always so kind - 

Tenn breaks out in a cold sweat. Did Kujo have him return to Japan because of the play… Or was it so he could dismiss Tenn more easily? Will he be dropped off at the airport, or at Nanases’ door? 

“I feel for the dancers, in this instance. As I said, a performance is a result of cooperation on many levels. It may fail at the level of a performer, but the management may be to blame, as well. Worrying for their own future under such unsteady management must have taken a toll,” Kujo nods in sympathy. “I don’t suppose it was much better at home? Unable to motivate their own staff, unable to be strong for their own children… and you were caught in the middle of it all. Deep down, you must have been wishing for your parents to make it all okay again,” Kujo says softly, “Hoped that they would come up with a way out that didn’t require you to leave.”

“I…” Tenn wants to deny everything, but Kujo reaches deep, pulling out the feelings he tried so hard to shut away and hide, even from himself. The worst is a horrible kind of relief to have it put into words.

“And they betrayed those feelings. They abandoned you.” 

It feels wrong, so wrong, to hear Mom and Dad being talked about like this. There’s a tiny voice in his head protesting: they’re kind people - Mom was crying when I left - but Kujo’s compassionate tone sows doubt into Tenn’s heart, making it difficult to argue. There’s a sadness to Kujo-san’s voice, as if he really understood Tenn’s plight. It’s the first time Tenn has felt such genuine emotion from Kujo. It dawns on him that he might’ve misjudged Kujo-san; it’s possible the man he saw as nefarious and unsettling has been hurt by someone. The thought makes his intensity less overwhelming, and more… pitiful. 

“They gave up, leaving young Riku’s health and their own debt in your hands. But you, you stepped up and took responsibility. From the moment I saw you, I knew you were different. You have what it takes to help your brother.”

“Riku…”

“Not just him. You could become an idol who gives strength and hope to countless people. Like an angel descending onto the stage…”Impassioned, Kujo seems to be staring somewhere beyond Tenn opposite him, past the restaurant walls. “A light guiding and dazzling those who look up to you; outshining anyone who would try to compete against you. They would all fade away, insignificant specks next to a true sun.”

Tenn recalls the bright smile of the idol with two colored hair who made him forget about his stress when Tenn was about to collapse; the figure of the young actress. _ So this is an entertainer. _Rather than scaring him, the weight of responsibility makes him oddly calm, the answer he’s been seeking, clearer. He finally has a concrete image of what he must do. And hasn’t he done this before? Keeping his head up has always been easier when it was for Riku. It’s always been easier to smile when his brother was watching.

Many more would watch him from now on.

“Kujo-san. Do you mean it?

Kujo smiles. “Of course. You are the one I chose, Tenn. As long as you don’t do things halfway, you could surpass even that person… Yes. If it’s you, suppressing Zero would no longer be a dream.”

“I understand.” Tenn’s voice is stronger than before; his hands don’t shake, either. “Kujo-san. I will study hard. I will finish school as soon as possible and concentrate all my strength on work. Please, give me another chance.”

“_ That’s my boy. _”

* * *

It’s the middle of the night when Tenn pushes the door to his room open, his eyes refusing to open all the way from exhaustion and jet lag. If he’s to uphold his promise, he ought to go to bed as soon as possible, save as much energy as he can - but just as that first night at Kujo’s apartment, there’s too much on his mind for sleep to come. On his way to the bath, he spots the metallic shine of his laptop, still as he left it, laying on the couch. A blinking light indicates it wasn’t turned off properly.

Tenn sighs. Just for awhile… He can start from tomorrow. As long as he makes up for the moment of indulgence, no one will find out.

Maybe, he says to himself as he rushes to shower and dry his hair as quickly as possible, maybe Momo-san was on TV again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A few notes:  
\- You may notice that the event I described here was what Tenn gave as his reason to follow Kujo in the first place (in part 2, Chapter 5.2: The feelings I wanted to convey), but given that he wasn't being honest with Riku in the scene where it's referenced, and that he mentions rebelling against Kujo at first at more than one occasion, I decided it's within the realm of possibility for things to have played out this way. Isolating Tenn first would give Kujo an opportunity to manipulate Tenn more effectively. Now, if you excuse me, I'm going to spend tomorrow marathoning the softest and happiest iyashikei anime to get the bad taste out of my mouth. If I never have to write this man again it will be too soon.
> 
> \- Momo absolutely IS Tenn's favorite senpai in canon, and I have ample receipts to prove it. Tenn has been shown to care for and respect Momo a lot... and I simply ran away with it, imagining when it might've started. And it won't be the last time it comes up!
> 
> \- The play mentioned isn't a real play (iirc i7 canon doesn't even mention what kind of entertainer the widow was), but I might've had a certain story of a certain character from another series in mind. The message getting ironically distorted through Kujo's brainwashing in the context of Tenn's current arc is intentional.
> 
> Next chapter: Trigger is formed!


End file.
